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My mom was eating out with a group of friends, when the brother-in-law of one of the women stopped by the table and invited them over to look at his 11 "surprise" puppies. They all went "just looking", but Mom took one look at Sophie (the runt) and, as the saying goes, the rest is history.
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"Just like my dad, I excell at digging under, jumping over, and squeezing through fences. When I was about two years old, I decided it would be fun to go running around the neighborhood with my best pal Bacca. It turned out to not be such a good idea. I either got hit in the face by a car or kicked by a horse, I don't remember which. Luckily, Bacca managed to get safely back home to get our humans to come help me. I broke my lower jaw in many places, lost most of my teeth (and those that remain aren't were they're supposed to be and are mere stubs, except for the one canine that sticks almost straight out), and had many serious internal injuries. Even though the people at the vet in Rose Hill were great the entire two weeks I was there, I just wanted to be back at home. So let this be a lesson to all you other 'doods out there that like to go roaming, and don't do it!"
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